Domestic
by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: Response to Jessa L'Rynn's 2nd January challenge. When the Eleventh Doctor turns up on their doorstep, the human Doctor is determined to remind him exactly why he feared domestic. Green paint, moody teenagers, the Tyler slap and more. Oneshot.
1. Domestic

**Jessa L'Rynn's January Challenge 2:** New Year, New New Doctors. Write a fic that somehow collides Ten!Too and Eleven. Someone should use a quote from Nine, someone should have a container of green paint, and there should be a small, fluffy animal. Ten points to your house if you can get Jackie Tyler involved in a way that annoys every other character except Jackie.

* * *

**Title**: Domestic

**Author:** TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel

**Story Summary:** When the Eleventh Doctor turns up on their doorstep, the human Doctor is determined to remind him exactly why he feared domestic. Green paint, moody teenagers, the Tyler slap and more. Humour.

**Setting: **After series four of New Who.

**Author notes:**

_It probably could have been longer, but it isn't. I tried, but gave up. My muse has fled, and I will accept defeat gracefully and mix my metaphors._

* * *

**DOMESTIC**

* * *

The Doctor's list of reasons why you do _not_ decorate your brother with green paint was interrupted by a stranger walking into the room as though he owned the place.

"But I'm an Albyrian shaman, Daddy," Ian said pleadingly. His skin was covered in swirly symbols done in green paint. The Doctor's children were mostly human, but had just enough Time Lord DNA to make them twice as exasperating as normal children.

"I know they've normally got blue, but we could only find green," Phila explained, "and we got all the runes right, yeah?"

The Doctor was relieved to be able to turn to where the stranger was staring at them in what seemed to be awe as a perfectly valid distraction.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my house?" he demanded of the pale man who reminded him of the bloke in that vampire movie Phila cried over every time she watched it. Pale and kind of pretty-boy.

The stranger stared at him in wonder.

"Your senses have been failing, then?" he asked, as if that had anything to do with walking uninvited people's houses and interrupting scoldings being delivered to your eccentric children, as though that wasn't rude anyway. "I'm the Doctor. The Eleventh regeneration."

Ian and Phila stared at him open-mouthed while the Doctor stared despairingly and wondered where to even start. How he parted his hair, probably. Or maybe by advising him to get a tan.

"I just thought I'd visit," Eleven said, uncomfortable at the way they were staring at him like he was an alien. To most he _was_ an alien, but this lot carried some of his DNA, so why he was getting that look he didn't know.

"Would you get on well with Three, do you think?" the Doctor finally broke the silence, "you know, with the velvet, and the hair…"

There was another moment's silence, and fourteen years of anger burst out.

"You!" the Doctor yelled, striding up to Eleven who had the gall to look surprised, "you left me in another universe! On a beach! With Rose Tyler, and for that I'm willing to go a bit easier on you, but you abandoned me in a parallel world and foisted me on Rose without giving either of us any kind of choice! And now you turn up on our doorstep saying you're here for a visit? I don't think so, sunshine!"

"Dad," Phila said, "you sound like a woman again."

Dammit, why did that always happen when he got cross?

"Doctor? Everything alright?"

The Doctor turned in alarm to see his wife enter the room and instantly notice the unusual – well, not unusual so much, not with _their_ kids – condition of their children.

"I can't leave you alone with them for one minute!" she scolded the Doctor, "look at them, this'll take hours to clean off!" She pulled a tissue out of a pocket, as like Jackie she had the skill of miraculously conjuring tissues out of nowhere down pat, and began vigorously wiping Ian's face.

Phila wisely fled while her brother protested vehemently about how he was _five_, he could do it _himself,_ and she was ruining his runes.

The Doctor cleared his throat.

"Rose," he said, his voice all sweetness and light, "you remember… well, _me?_"

Rose paused in her ministrations. Slowly she began to turn. Ian had a highly-sensitive trouble radar, well-honed after living all his life with his parents and sister and Jackie, and occasionally Torchwood, and he fled as well.

Rose stared at Vampire Boy for a moment. He looked smiling and hopeful, but with the beginnings of nervousness in his eyes.

Then she punched the daylights out of him.

-

The Doctor was sitting by the sofa when his counterpart came round.

"Do you remember all those charming daydreams you used to have," he began happily, "about you and Rose and being all domestic? Well, they're about to come true. Here you are, with Rose ready to yell at you the moment she realised you've regained consciousness, and believe me she's inherited her mother's lungs, two children covered in green paint who need to be scrubbed down and no doubt have all kinds of fascinating questions for you, and in the meantime have left green fingerprints all over your nice burgundy coat. And on top of it all, we're having Pete and Jackie for dinner! And Tony, who is going through a delightfully moody teenage phase. All lovely and domestic, don't you think?"

"You're an evil, evil man," Eleven groaned.

"That's the point," the Doctor snapped, all anger again. "Did part of your brain get lost during the regeneration process?"

"Daaaaaaad!" a voice wailed, and Ian came sprinting into the room wet and completely naked. "I don't wanna have a bath!"

The Doctor sighed, caught his soapy, green-daubed naked son with practiced ease, and carried him back upstairs kicking and yelling and squirming rather.

He returned a few minutes later wetter and although he didn't know it, a patch of green hair standing on end.

"That charming young monster was Ian," he explained. "He doesn't like baths at the moment, which is particularly strange considering he used to live for bath time. Some sort of revulsion of feeling, I suppose. I'm not sure where Phila's gone – she's thirteen, by the way, and just entered puberty – but Rose'll track her down eventually, and then we'll have another episode of 'you listen to _me_, young lady' and 'it's my _life!_' to entertain us all."

The Doctor felt a certain amount of satisfaction at the way Eleven paled further at the thought.

"Oh yes, and Jackie, when she arrives, will be thoughtful enough to tell us exactly how we're raising our children incorrectly, before moving on to a random topic of complaint."

Eleven gave him a look at that, it was probably meant to be sternly displeased, but he was too appalled by the Doctor's summation of the evening for it to work.

"You're going to make me suffer, aren't you?"

"_Oh yes!_" the Doctor exclaimed, then "Rose! He's awake!"

As Rose stalked in, eyes flashing, the Doctor tactfully made himself scarce, going upstairs to make sure his offspring weren't getting up to mischief.

-

He was just in time to see Phila climbing from a tree through the bathroom window, paint can dangling from one arm. There were splots of paint across her sleeve and down her jeans, where it had clearly dripped while she was climbing the tree.

The Doctor folded his arms and looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Your Gran and Granddad are coming over tonight," he said. "And Uncle Tony."

"I know."

"Your mother's cooking specially."

"Put her on a low heat and let her simmer," Phila suggested flippantly.

The Doctor's eyebrow crept a little higher.

"Be glad she can't hear you," he murmured. "Phi', the last thing your mum needs on top of everything else is your acting childishly. Try to behave, please."

Phila scowled venomously, but nodded.

"I don't like _him_, though."

A mischievous look blossomed on the Doctor's face.

"I give you full permission to make things as difficult for him as possible," he said airily.

Phila grinned back, wickedly.

"Can I use the paint?"

**oo o0o oo**

Eleven was sitting at the kitchen table, duly chastened (he'd offered to help Rose preparing for dinner after her tirade, but she curtly told him he'd only get in the way and to _sit_) when a green-streaked miniature Rose plopped into the seat next to his and turned to stare at him. She had messy honey-coloured hair that just reached her shoulders and features that were mostly Rose's, but her eyes were the clear, steely blue of his ninth regeneration, the one he often thought of as the epitome of the Oncoming Storm.

She gave him a measuring, assessing look.

"So you're the other one. What d'you think of the name Phila?"

"Means 'love', doesn't it?" Eleven said. "I think it's nice."

Wrong answer apparently, as she glared darkly.

"I can't _believe_ you!" she proclaimed as though he'd committed some vast solecism, "you're as bad as they are! It's a terrible name! Either people call me Philly, which sounds like a _horse_, or La-la, which is _worse!_"

And she stormed off, a small human-shaped container of barely-contained fury.

"Phila Foreman, you come back here this instant and set the table!" Rose hollered after her, but the girl was gone. "And make sure you wash all that paint off!"

"Foreman?" Eleven echoed, knowing he must have an odd look on his face. He wasn't sure how to feel. There was a tightness in his chest at the name, but… he wasn't unhappy, not exactly.

"The Doctor said Smith was a name he used when he was pretending to be someone other than himself so it wouldn't do," Rose explained shortly as she stirred the sauce on the stove. "He needed a name that was at least a bit him somehow, and Foreman was."

"Oh."

'Doctor Foreman' wandered in then, having heard her yelling earlier.

"There a problem, love?"

"Phila's taken off again," Rose said, while Eleven was assailed by a fit of jealousy and incredible wistfulness at hearing his counterpart address Rose that way.

"Right," Human Doctor said. "I'll get her presentable. Better get that paint can off her, too," he added, scratching the back of his neck as he left the room again. "No telling what trouble she'll get up to with it."

Eleven was left alone with Rose again.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help?" he ventured.

"All right then," Rose said coolly. "Find Ian, and make sure he's in clean clothes and washes his hands for dinner, then bring him down here. Think you can manage that?"

Eleven wasn't sure of that at all, given what he'd seen of Rose's wayward children – _they could have been __your__ children, you daft sod_ – so far, but thought it best to keep his doubts to himself.

"Sure," he said, and went in search of a small mostly-human child.

-

Ian turned out to be sitting on the carpet of a very pink room, a pile of open lipsticks in front of him. He was naked again, and using one of the lipsticks to doodle on his arm.

"Erm," Eleven said. He stared down, at a loss. It had been too long since he'd had children of his own. "Should you be doing that? I don't think your sister will be pleased."

Ian twisted his head around to stare at the Time Lord.

"How about we put the lids back on them and put them away, and pretend you never touched them?" Eleven suggested.

"Okay," Ian agreed amiably. He helped Eleven re-cap the lipsticks and put them back in the drawer of a small purple set of plastic drawers where he had found them, on top of the dressing table.

"Come on, we need to get you clean and dressed," Eleven said cheerfully.

Ian stopped dead.

"No bath!" his eyes went huge and he looked ready to bolt, like Ten when he was offered a pear. Eleven idly wondered if the Human Doctor did that...

"No bath," he agreed hastily, "we're just going to wipe your arm and put some clothes on you, for Jackie and Pete and Tony."

Ian's face lit up in hero-worship.

"Tony!" he cried in glee, and ran out of the room.

Eleven found him in the bedroom next to Phila's, waiting by the chest of drawers.

"I needs clothes," Ian explained.

Eleven obligingly went through the drawers, finding underwear, a shirt and shorts for Tony. He tried to help the boy put them on.

"I can do it by myself!" Tony said, greatly offended, and proceeded to do so, although he somehow got his elbow through his shirt collar as well as his head and became stuck, and that Eleven had to manoeuvre it back through the collar and help him fit it through the appropriate sleeve.

The lipstick was scrubbed off, and Eleven tried to comb Ian's hair, but it continued to stand in all directions.

"I've got Dad hair," Ian said.

Eleven finally escorted him downstairs to find Phila now in the kitchen helping her mother, and wearing clean clothes.

Then the doorbell rang.

"Gran!" Ian yelled, and bolted for the hallway.

Eleven heard the front door open and Human Doctor say something friendly, and Jackie's voice greeting him happily.

"Gran!" came the shout, audible even in the kitchen.

The sound of Jackie cooing over her grandson drifted in from the hallway along with Pete's quiet voice.

Eleven turned just as the group entered the kitchen.

"Jackie, Pete," his counterpart said sunnily, "you remember _the_ Doctor, don't you?"

"Cripes, you look old," Eleven said. Instantly he realised what he'd done, and his eyes bulged in horror.

**oo o0o oo**

The Doctor watched with a certain amount of amused satisfaction as Jackie recovered from gaping shock to react to this.

"I look old, do I?" his mother-in-law demanded of the stricken man. "How _dare_ you? You leave my daughter heartbroken on a beach in Norway after she crosses universes to find you, leaving me to look after Rose and the poor Doctor here, and all these years later you turn up and the first thing you have to _say_ to me is that I look _old?_"

Rose was watching too, the Doctor noticed, an unusually inscrutable look on her face as she watched the cringing man.

The kids, well, they wore a kind of look of vicious glee…

"What next, you going to tell Pete he's gone bald?" Jackie demanded, while Pete looked resigned at having it pointed out, again. "The sheer nerve –"

"You could sell tickets to this," Tony told the Doctor conspirationally.

"I know," the Doctor murmured back. "I've dreamt of seeing this for years."

"Look at Phila." Tony nodded his head in her direction, a small grin on his face. "All she needs is some popcorn."

"When he leaves, I'll tell you about her revenge," the Doctor said by his ear.

Pete, in the manner of a man inured to this kind of scene, had walked across the room to greet his daughter, and was now helping her and Phila to serve food onto each plate.

"And _then_, as though that wasn't enough–"

"Mum," Rose interrupted, "dinner's ready."

Jackie shut up at that, but cast a fulminating glance at Eleven before joining the rest of the family at the table.

Eleven joined them cautiously, as there was an empty place set next to Phila that was clearly meant for him.

"What have you been up to, sweetheart?" Jackie asked Rose. "I haven't heard from you for a few days."

Rose snorted.

"Aliens turned up in Harrods with no idea how they got there," she explained to the rest of the table. "There was running and screaming everywhere, until someone decided to go on the offensive and hit one of them over the head with a set of dishes from the home and leisure department. We got there to find it looking like something out of World War Two. Half of them – humans and aliens – had to be sedated."

Tony was laughing almost hysterically, clearly able to envisage the scene. The others were smiling.

Pete shook his head.

"Exactly why I quit," he said. "I've got enough to deal with without Torchwood and barmy aliens."

On cue Jackie sent a pointed, unfriendly look at Eleven.

It was, the Doctor reflected trying not to grin even as he felt a twinge of pity, going to be a long night for the Time Lord.

**oo o0o oo**

Eleven felt that he bore dinner fairly well, for a man trapped in a room with a bunch of people who were at best very unhappy with him, and at worst wanted to slap him repeatedly. There were pointed comments, and nasty looks, but he responded as politely as he could and tried to calmly eat his meal.

His nerves were pretty frayed, though, at the point a small furry shape abruptly streaked across the room and through the open door.

"_Chizpurfle!_" Phila screamed in joy, and leapt up and sprinted after it, dinner forgotten. Ian scrambled down and went tearing after her with a shriek of delight.

Eleven blinked.

"What was that?"

"Chizpurfle," Rose said glumly. "There was this alien diplomat, see, gave us a couple as pets for the kids…"

"But what they didn't tell us is that they breed like mad," Human Doctor finished. "We've got them separated now, but every now and then up pops a baby one we missed."

Eleven frowned, a shrewd suspicion prickling in his mind. From what he had seen of these children…

"Do you suppose they're purposefully letting them breed when you aren't around?"

Rose froze. So did Human Doctor.

"Those little buggers," Rose said through gritted teeth, while her husband went of into a fit of inappropriate laughter, tried to stop at her glare, and utterly failed, dissolving into sniggers instead.

Jackie shook her head.

"All kids are," she said wisely. "Phila's almost as bad as you were at that age."

Rose huffed.

Eleven excused himself and left the room.

He found the children on the stairs, cuddling a small ball of fur.

"You going to give it a name?"

Phila looked up at him. Again he was struck by those eyes, fierce and measuring. Then she looked down at the chizpurfle, tucking her hair behind one ear.

"Dunno," she said. She was holding it carefully, firmly but infinitely gently.

"I've always loved your mum, you know," he said before he could stop himself.

Phila went still, except for the petting of the purring chizpurfle.

"Soon as I laid eyes on her, I was a goner. Couldn't help it."

He took a breath.

"I wanted to marry her, more than anything, but…" He sat on the stairs, leaning his elbow on one and staring contemplatively at the wall.

"I was married before, see. Wife, and kids, and then they were all gone. I couldn't do it again. Have them, only to lose them. And I would have, sooner or later. The worst part is when the telepathic bond just… breaks, and you're all alone with the jagged edges and the emptiness in your mind. I couldn't go through with it. So I sent Blue Suit off with her so that she could have a life with me like she wanted, even if it wasn't _me_ me, and so that at least one of me could live as I'd always dreamt of. And he's only got a human lifespan, see, so he'll never have to watch his wife and his children wither and die and try to go on, broken."

Ian climbed on his lap and gave him a hug, to Eleven's bemusement. He cuddled the little boy in return, though, feeling comforted.

There was a slight sound and he looked around instinctively, to see Rose standing in the doorway, face inscrutable but her eyes softened.

Oh, bugger. She'd heard.

She cleared her throat.

"You going to stay for dessert?"

There was a lurking shadow behind which Eleven realised, with gloom, was her husband.

"Nah," Eleven said, lifting Ian gently away and rising, "better get back to the TARDIS. Wall breach must be pretty close to closing, by now. The Time Agency was doing experiments, see, tore a giant hole. Stopped them, but thought I'd, you know, pay a visit."

They followed him to the front door and out onto the stoop.

"We do care about you," Rose said softly. "We were just angry for not giving us a choice. None of us, not even Mum, have ever forgotten everything you've done for all of us."

"I know."

The three of them stood looking at each other.

Then Rose grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him into a full-on snog.

It was exactly the kind of snog Eleven had always wanted to have with Rose. As she kissed him thoroughly he wondered if he should maybe put his arms around her a bit, or something, or if she'd slap him, or…

Rose let him go and he staggered slightly. That had been… intense.

Human Doctor was watching them thoughtfully.

Eleven quirked an eyebrow at him.

"You going to kiss me too?"

"Watch it, spaceman," he said.

Then he grinned a little and stepped forward to grasp Eleven's arm above the elbow, looking into his eyes seriously.

"Take care of yourself."

"I will," Eleven replied. He hesitated a moment, then spoke sincerely. "Both of you, have a brilliant life."

And he walked off into the moonlight, leaving Rose and his counterpart to the happy, domestic life he'd always wanted.

Quite right, too.

**oo o0o oo**

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at his wife.

"Care to explain the kissing bit?"

"Well, I never did get to kiss him," Rose told him, "and I always wanted to. Besides, after everything he's been through, I thought he kind of deserved it. I mean, we got the happy ending, yeah?"

She leaned back into his embrace, and they looked up at the stars, missing their travels as always, but quite content with the life they'd woven together.

Because they both had the life they'd always wanted, in a way, no matter what form it took.

**oo o0o oo**

Eleven's cheerful whistle cut off abruptly as he turned into the alleyway and stopped dead.

There in big green letters across the doors of the TARDIS were painted the words, '**THE DOCTOR IS A DICK**.'

And just for emphasis, a smiley face had been painted underneath.

"Never having more kids," Eleven said. "Never."

The TARDIS just laughed at him.

-

**END**

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	2. Bonus: The TARDIS Scene

**Title**: Domestic

**Author:** TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel

**Author notes:**

_This was originally going to be in the actual fic, however I realised that since I was telling it only from the perspective of the two Doctors, then adding in this scene would ruin the flow. So here it is: Phila, the TARDIS, and a tin of green paint._

* * *

**BONUS:**

**THE TARDIS SCENE**

* * *

_A mischievous look blossomed on the Doctor's face._

"_I give you full permission to make things as difficult for him as possible," he said airily._

_Phila grinned back, wickedly._

"_Can I use the paint?"_

**oo o0o oo**

Phila walked down the street with her tin of paint, frowning.

He had to have parked somewhere nearby, but the problem was, there were a lot of streets that counted as 'nearby,' and she had only half an hour to get this done and get back before dinner. Not to mention, the streetlights had already come on and it was getting dark, the last thing she wanted was to be wandering about at night alone.

She walked for a few more minutes…

_There._

She moved closer, and stared at it.

She'd heard stories of it, this wonderful, impossible ship that could travel in time, the last of its kind just as the Doctor was. A relic of a different age, of a society that had reached the pinnacle of development before it all went stagnant and then perished in a war that had rocked the cosmos.

On the outside it didn't look like much, just a battered old police phonebox. The only reason Phila even knew what a police phone box _was_ was because her parents had explained it to her.

She could feel the slight humming, even from here.

Phila had an unusually strong telepathic field, she knew, but it wasn't half as strong as a Time Lord's. She wondered if it would be enough, as she reached out tentatively towards the blue box.

A wave of entirely foreign, delighted pleasure rolled out from the TARDIS. It was disorienting for a moment. The TARDIS didn't think remotely like a human did. For a start, there were a lot more dimensions.

The TARDIS' mental output reduced a little to allow her to adjust.

"Thanks," Phila said.

_Obliging feelings_.

"Mum and Dad miss you awfully, you know," she told the ship companionably, putting her paint down for the moment, and standing to address it. "I mean, I know they're not actually _Dad's_ memories, and he does too, but all the same."

_Gratification, mutual fondness. Wistful._

"Right," said Phila, who thought she was getting the hang of this. "I'll let them know."

She took a breath.

"Listen, Dad said that if I asked you first, you shouldn't mind, but would you let me do something?"

_Curiosity._

Phila tucked hair behind her ear and smiled engagingly at the ship. She probably couldn't see it, but might as well use the gesture anyway in case.

"If it doesn't bother you, I'd like to paint something across your exterior."

_Puzzlement and strong curiosity about small Human-Time Lady's words._

Phila said it.

For the next few minutes there was an indescribable feeling in her head, sort of bubbly and jangling and very amused.

_Agreement. Much amusement and anticipation. Thought of Time Lord's_ – it was a possessive, somehow, identifying only the single Time Lord that was hers – _face at the discovery._

Phila grinned back happily.

"Thanks!"

The TARDIS continued to laugh now and then as Phila painted words across the TARDIS doors in bright green paint.

After several minutes, she stood back to admire her work.

'**THE DOCTOR IS A DICK**' the doors now said.

"It's missing something," Phila said thoughtfully.

The TARDIS made a suggestion, but Phila didn't understand.

"What?"

After a few minutes of exchanging words and mental impressions, trying to clarify things, Phila caught on.

"Oh, like a sarcastic touch!"

_Pleasure at the intelligent child._

"I'm thirteen you know," Phila grumbled, trying to think what else she could paint, "I'm not a kid anymore."

_Impression of her Time Lord – child. Impression of small Human-Time Lady – tiny!_

Phila couldn't help giggling at the comparison, made with a lofty air.

"All right, I get your point."

Suddenly it came to her, and grinning widely, Phila painted a big smiley face underneath the lettering.

She stuck the brush back in the tin, feeling pleased with herself.

_Inviting?_

Phila frowned at the wistful hopeful thought that entered her mind. What did that mean?

_Image of doors opening…_

"Oh, can I?" Phila was delighted. "I'd love to!"

The TARDIS doors opened at her touch, and she walked inside.

She spent a good ten minutes looking around the console room exclaiming over things, before the TARDIS reminded her she was going to be late.

"Bollocks!" she exclaimed. She glanced around regretfully. "Suppose I'd better go."

_Urging, moving, this way…_

Phila moved, obeying the vague instructions, until she was right at the back of the room. She removed the small grating there, as prompted, to find herself looking at a small piece of what looked like coral.

_Motherly love, pride, maternal feelings… Gift. Nurture. Feed – time/space rift, mental impressions…_

It took Phila longer than usual to work through that one.

"This is your _baby?!_" she almost shrieked, staring down with huge eyes at the pulsing coral. "And you want me to have it?"

_Yes._

She blinked at how easily she'd understood the response.

_Surety. Care?_

"Well, if you're sure," Phila agreed wonderingly. "I'll take care of it, I promise. Is it a boy or a girl?"

_Doubtful… Female?_

Phila frowned. The TARDIS didn't really seem to understand the concept of male and female, not when applied to TARDISes, anyway.

"Thank you," she said sincerely. "I won't forget you. And I'll look after your baby."

Phila left the TARDIS, walking out into the cold night air and picking up her pain tin, the baby TARDIS tucked carefully into her jacket pocket.

"Bye then," she said, unsure what else to say, and began to walk back home, grinning at the thought of what the TARDIS' Doctor was probably enduring at the hands of her parents.

Hah. Served him right.

There was a flicker of confusion from the baby TARDIS, and she reached out to it with love and delight.

-

**END SCENE**

* * *


End file.
